[Chorus: Eminem] That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (whoa!) Up on this mic, when we’re on it That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (woo!) That’s how much we have in common We are not alike, there’s not alike us on the mic (yeah!)

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5’9″] I don’t do Jordans and Audemars I do explosions and Molotovs Y’all blowin’ smoke as if y’all ain’t washed I blow the smoke from the car exhaust Flyin’ to a party I am not invited to, feelin’ like the streets need me I ain’t gotta dance long as my Ferrari Spyder move like C Breezy I don’t gotta hire goons I’d rather try to buy the moon and breathe freely The sky is blue, the tie is new The Masarati white and cool like G-Eazy While these dudes tryna figure out How to do a freestyle as fly as me I’m confused tryna figure out how to do Kapri Styles and Mya G Everybody doin’ chick joints Probably rob these little dudes at fist point Remember everybody used to bite Nickel Now everybody doin’ Bitcoin We don’t got nothin’ in common (no) We don’t got nothin’ in common (no) Y’all into stuff like doubled-up Styrofoam cups On them uppers-and-downers (woo!) I’m into stuff like doublin’ commas Find me a brother who’s solid To count the shit up and then bust the shit down When the cops set us up, we can flush the shit down We can not give a fuck, shit, a fuckin’ colonic Sellin’ your cock and your butt for a follower Possible couple of dollars, you powder sniff Now you’re slippin’, call it a power trip, a product of politics Y’all went from profit and toppin’ the charts To dropped in the park in a pile of shit Knowledge is power, but powerless If you got it and you do not acknowledge it Y’all music sound like Dr. Seuss inspired it Hirin’ strippers, prostitutes retirin’ We can spit it for ya advance I’m fit to be king, you’re cut out to fit in Prince pants You niggas—

[Chorus: Eminem] That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (whoa!) Up on this mic, when we’re on it That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (woo!) That’s how much we have in common We are not alike, there’s not alike us on the mic (yeah!)

[Verse 2: Eminem] You say you’re affiliated with murderers, killas (ayy) The people you run with are thuggin’ (gang) But you’re just a wannabe gunna (gang) Like you was gonna do somethin’ Actin’ like you catchin’ bodies (ayy) And you got juice, lil youngin, you’re buggin’ You ain’t never even been charged in connection with battery Bitch, you ain’t plugged in to nothin’ Rap God spit lyrical bullets (boom) And gats cock, your partners better tool up This has not to do with muscular But have guns for sure, you better pull up Strap on, in other words if you’re gonna Roll up with your (gang) you’re gon’ need a arsenal ‘Cause this bar is over your head So you better have arms if you’re gonna pull up (skrrt) Oh, you run the streets, huh? Now you wanna come and fuck with me, huh? This little cock-sucker, he must be feelin’ himself He wants to keep up his tough demeanor So he does a feature, decides to team up with Nina But next time you don’t gotta use Tech N9ne If you wanna come at me with a sub-machine gun And I’m talkin’ to you, but you already know who the fuck you are, Kelly I don’t use sublims and sure as fuck don’t sneak-diss But keep commenting on my daughter Hailie I keep on telling motherfuckers, bitches, in case you forgot really I need Ja memories, jars like strawberry or pineapple, apricot jelly I respond rarely, but this time Shady ’bout to sound off Like a fuckin’ cocked semi Glock, demi-god Let me put a fucking silencer on this little non-threatening blond fairy cornball takin’ shots at me You’re not ready, fool, break yourself like Rocksteady Crew Obviously, I’m not gettin’ through We can get it poppin’ like Redenbach, lettin’ off like Remy Ma Heavy artillery, gotta deal harsh with a harsh child Pulla motherfucking heart bigger than Bizarre’s belly Only time you’ll ever say I lost You’ll be talkin’ ’bout Fetty Wap, better call Diddy Just to try to get me off, and you better hope I don’t call Trick Trick Bitch, this shit don’t fly in our city Pump, you don’t disrespect OGs, R.I.P. Prodigy Sold Dre my soul and then told him the moment he signed me That I’ll be the most hated, though made it So that there’s no shame, it’s okay to own it ‘Cause life is a bitch, she’s a bow-legged ho But now those days are over I Harvey Weinstein a bathrobe hanging open My code name is groper, I role play with lotion I fuck the whole world then I throw away the Trojan Olé the hoes like with home-made explosives I blow eighty holes in you Don’t make me go in, I OJ the flows and I’m insult to injury, Rolaids to Goldman I throws Dre a Motrin, I throated Nicole As they both there to choke and my whole plate is soakin’ I’m double-edge sword it ’cause one place I poke and I stick and I turn in a rotatin’ motion Invisible with the pen, I’m at the pinnacle of sick individuals Stick my dick and put the tip in at minimal I’m fuckin’ these syllables, I let them lick on my genitals I’m a fucking invisible, indefensible, despicable, difficult prick A little bit unpredictable, I spit the formidable That you bitches are fuckin’ with the original I can say that me and Nickel are identical, but not us The only thing we have in common is I’m a dick and you suck Otherwise one has nothin’ to do with the other None comes close to skunk, bug, soldier Tongue, shrub, shoulder, one month older Sponge, mob, colder, none, rug, hoaster Lug, nut, coaster, lung, jug roaster Young Thug poster, unplugged toaster

[Chorus: Eminem] That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (whoa!) Up on this mic, when we’re on it (yeah) That’s how much we have in common (yeah!) That’s how much we have in common (woo!) That’s how much we have in common We are not alike, there’s not alike us— (Man, fuck this shit, let’s go)